


The Words I Never Got To Say (The First Time Around)

by Fandoms_are_my_lifestyle



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bram is an English Teacher, Break Up, F/M, Future Fic, Getting Back Together, Inspired by Fanfiction, Lovers to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Break Up, Simon is a Guidance Counselor, Yes I know where they go to college in LOTO, and no i don't care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 01:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_are_my_lifestyle/pseuds/Fandoms_are_my_lifestyle
Summary: They end with heated words and tears. They end with Bram left hunched over the toilet in his Mom’s house because he honestly can’t believe that he had been able to spit such horrible words at the boy he once thought was the love of his life and the memory makes him nauseated. They end with Bieber licking the tears off Simon’s face as he sobs violently into his pillow, angry at himself for having let this mess escalate so far when all he can think about is how much he loves Bram,Loves Bram,and it hurts.They end.And that’s the end of it.Right?(Wrong.)





	The Words I Never Got To Say (The First Time Around)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stenbros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stenbros/gifts), [Paigers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paigers/gifts).



> This basically ignores LOTO cannon, mainly because I started writing it before it came out and was too lazy to change it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Paige, if you're reading this, I'm sorry that it's shit :)

They break up in the summer of Freshman year.

They had tried to make it work. Really, they had. But Bram gets into Columbia with a focus on English, gets in on scholarship, and Simon decides on the Georgia State University with no idea what he wants to do with his life and suddenly it’s like they don’t have time for each other anymore.

They end with heated words and tears. They end with Bram left hunched over the toilet in his Mom’s house because he honestly can’t believe that he had been able to spit such horrible words at the boy he once thought was the love of his life and the memory makes him nauseated. They end with Bieber licking the tears off Simon’s face as he sobs violently into his pillow, angry at himself for having let this mess escalate so far when all he can think about is how much he loves Bram, _Loves Bram_ , and it hurts.

They end.

And that’s the end of it.

Right?

* * *

**_Message from: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_> > Hey Bro! Heard ur back on the East Coast. Wanna meet up? I got something to tell u._ **

 

**_Message to: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_< < Sure. I’ll be by you in a half hour, give or take. _ **

 

**_Message from: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_> > See u thn!_ **

* * *

Garrett goes to NYU. He’d gotten in on a soccer scholarship and immediately accepted, claiming that he ‘cannot wait to meet all the city chicks’ and he’s ‘planning on partying like the world’s gonna end’.

Bram had been steeling himself for the ultimate loss of contact with his best friend, but had found himself pleasantly surprised when Garrett had stubbornly refused to let Bram fall out of his life.

(‘ _We go to colleges on the same subway system’, Garrett had scolded Bram, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. ‘Did you honestly think I was going to let you be awkward and not make any friends in college? No way, man!’_

_And that had been the end of that.)_

Garrett answers his door in nothing but Cookie Monster pajama pants, despite it being two in the afternoon, and Bram wants to smile because it’s just so Garrett, so true to his best friend, and in that moment Bram can almost smile again.

Almost.

There’s a _look_ on Garrett’s face, a look Bram knows well. It’s the look that says ‘I don’t know how to say what’s on my mind but I’m going to need to not talk about it for a bit’, a look Bram’s seen a million times before, and he’s okay with not talking. He’s so done with talking, so done with people asking him if he’s okay or trying to tell him about “the other fish in the sea”, and he’s grateful for Garrett’s need for silence.

They’re halfway through their fifth round of Smash Bros when Bram realizes Garrett doesn’t know about his and Simon’s breakup yet. He knows because even Garrett would have already said something about the breakup if he did know; Garrett has never been good at patience. He doesn't want to say it, but he also does so he opens his mouth -

“Garrett, I-”

“Bram, I think I’m bi.”

The sudden spew of words surprises Bram, and there’s a beat of silence before Bram can speak again.

“Wait, what?”

“Well, I mean, maybe not bi, maybe pan, I don't know, but there's this guy at the bookstore and he's trans and he's so beautiful, Bram, and I haven't felt this way about anyone since Leah, you know, and-”

“Garrett,” Bram says gently. “You’re rambling.”

Garrett flushes and stares at his shoes bashfully.

“Sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize to me, Garrett,” Bram says quietly. They’re having a moment™, and he really doesn’t want to ruin it. “I’m glad you told me.”

“Thanks, bro.” Garrett says, focusing back on the screen and effectively destroying Bram’s character. Bram groans, and Garrett’s smile returns.

“Anyways, I was hoping that maybe one I get up the courage to ask him out, maybe we could double date? You know, you and Spier, Alex and-”

_Spier._

_Simon._

Bram hasn’t really let himself think about Simon since getting back to New York, but hearing his name from someone who _knew Simon_ is too much and suddenly he’s _sobbing_ , ugly cries being torn from his throat as the pain hits him once again.

Simon. Simon. Simon.

“Bram? Hey, hey, Bram. Greenfeld. Talk to me, buddy.”

Garrett’s kneeling in front of him, hands on Bram’s shoulders, and Bram can’t breathe because it hurts, it hurts, it hurts so badly and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop hurting.

“I- We- We broke up. Simon. And I. We’re done.”

He’s speaking in sentence fragments and it only reminds him more of Simon, of early emails and AP classes, and his heart feels like it’s tearing in two. He doesn't think it’ll ever be whole again.

He falls into Garrett’s arms and lets his best friend hold him as he cries.

* * *

There’s a cute boy sitting next to Simon at the bar. There’s a cute boy smiling at Simon and laughing and he’s _definitely_ flirting with Simon.

He says his name is Jonathan and he's from Atlanta originally, and Simon can’t tell if it’s the three tequila shots or Jonathan’s smile but he feels lightheaded.

He’s super bad at flirting, he knows this for a fact, but Jonathan doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s been almost six months since he and Bram had broken up - four months of moping and two months of Alicia and Nate, his two best friends here at GSU, trying to get him out of his bedroom and back into the dating scheme - and Simon shouldn’t still be feeling guilty about flirting with Jonathan.

He should not be feeling wrong about flirting with another guy - someone who is Not Bram - but he is.

He smiles and leans a little closer and tries to ignore the pain in his chest.

Later, he lies next to Jonathan, sweaty and sated, and tries not to think about how the body next to him is _too slender too light-skinned too confident._ He tries not to cry at the empty feeling in his chest, tries not to notice the noticeable lack of the comfort which he used to associate with His Blue being by his side.

He fails.

Simon leaves early the next morning, dressed in last night’s clothing with the smell of sweat still lingering on his body. He doesn’t leave his number.

* * *

In the Fall of his Sophomore year of Columbia, Bram Greenfeld gets a boyfriend.

His name is Troy. He’s black and bi and in Bram’s Advanced Shakespeare class, and he’s so sweet to Bram it makes Bram want to melt. He’s a Theatre Major with his eyes set on Broadway, and his self-deprecating sense of humor makes Bram laugh like he hasn’t laughed since high school.

Their first date is to an Off-Broadway production of _Twelfth Night_ , and it’s funny and the actors are amazing and it’s everything Shakespeare would have wanted for his plays. Afterwards, eyes still shining with the reflections of the stage lights as they discuss the portrayals of Viola and Malvolio, they wander into an IHOP in an attempt to lengthen the night.

Troy orders waffles, and Bram levels him with a judging glare. “We’re at the International House of Pancakes and you ordered _Waffles?_ ”

“What?” Troy laughs, easy and free. “What’s wrong with waffles?”

 _(And suddenly Bram is back in The Waffle House, Abby and Nick across from Bram and Simon by his side, Simon, always by his side with one hand encased in Bram’s while the other gesticulates wildly, talking with his hands as much as he does with his mouth, and he’s making fun of Abby for ordering eggs when they’re “in a_ _Waffle House_ _, Abby, what's wrong with waffles?” And Bram is laughing and Nick is crying tears of laughter and it’s so happy, so bright, and he can almost taste the syrup-)_

“-am. Bram!”

“Sorry, what?” Bram jumps, shaken back to reality. To Troy. He’s not in Atlanta anymore, he's not in Waffle House.

He’s not with Simon anymore.

“Where’d you go?” Troy asks, eyes soft, and Bram blushes. He shouldn't be thinking about Simon, not now when he’s on a date with an amazing guy who talks while waving his fork in the air for emphasis and has a weird fascination with waffles.

“Nowhere,” Bram replies, and he can feel his heart go soft at how earnest Troy is. “I was just thinking.”

Troy’s not Simon, but maybe-

Maybe he doesn't have to be.

* * *

Simon decides to be a Guidance Counselor at the end of his sophomore year.

He’d been thinking about it for a while, if he's being honest; looking back on the blackmail incident with Martin Addison in Junior Year, and how much better his experience could have been if he’d had someone to turn to. He thinks of Abby, senior year, turning to him for advice when she’d had relationship issues with Nick. He thinks about Bram, and how afraid Bram had been of coming out. He thinks of countless hate crimes he’d seen in the halls of Shady Creek that everyone pretended not to see - the swastikas drawn on the desks of the Jewish kids, the word “FAG” spray painted on Ethan’s locker when he had first come out, the N-word shouted in the halls.

He thinks of all the times he’d pretended not to see the hatred within the halls of his high school, and his heart hurts to think of how he could have helped prevent it if he had just had the balls.

He thinks of how much more he could do, even now.

The final decision comes with the help of Nora, visiting him for the weekend while she tried to decide where she would apply to college. They’re lying on his bed, too lazy to get up and blow up the air mattress she’ll be sleeping on, when Simon raises his head to look at her.

“Hey Nori?”

He hasn't called Nora by that nickname in years, not since she’d gotten embarrassed by it in sixth grade, but the name still feels right on his lips.

She turns her head to look at him. “Hmm?”

“What do you think… I mean… Do you think I…” He pauses, unsure if voicing the thought will break it. “I’m thinking of declaring a major.”

Nora raises her eyebrows at him, suddenly interested. “Mom and Dad will be pleased,” she says sassily. “Only took you two years.”

“Shut up,” Simon mutters affectionately. “No, but seriously…”

He pauses to collect his thoughts and Nora stares back at him, unperturbed.

“Si,” she says slowly, “No matter what you decide, you know we’ll all support you.”

“I’m thinking of looking into guidance counseling,” Simon blurts out. “I’ve already done most of the prerequisites, you know, psychology and human behavior and stuff like that, just ‘cause I thought it was interesting, and it would be easy to transfer my major to psychology and do a minor in education and then-”

“Si!” Nora cuts off his rambling, eyeing him happily. “I think you’d make a great guidance counselor.”

“Really?” Simon asks, and suddenly there's hope for him, hope that this private dream that’s been lurking in the back of his head for months _isn’t_ ridiculous, _isn't_ unreachable, and he can feel himself begin to smile.

“Really, really.” Nora responds, just as she’s done since they were kids, and it amazes Simon to see that no matter how much they grow, some things never change. He echoes her words with a smile on his face.

“Really, really.”

* * *

Troy and Bram break up at the beginning of Junior year.

It’s mutual - they’d grown apart over the summer, they both wanted to focus on the year academically, and they part as friends - but something about it still feels strange to Bram.

He's not entirely sure what it is. Maybe just the thought of being single is weird to him, after being in a relationship with Troy for almost a year.

He unlocks his phone and stares at the message bar quizzically. He feels as though he should tell someone about the breakup - maybe that would make it more real - but who could he tell?

**_Message to: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_< < singleladies.gif_ **

He stares at the gif for a second, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. When Leah had broken up with her first girlfriend she’d sent the gif into their group chat; Bram had never thought he would be the type to use it himself, but there was no reason not to, right?

**_Message from: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_> > Bro did u just_ **

**_> > I mean _ **

**_> > Sucks _ **

**_> > But also did you just_ **

Bram lets himself laugh now, staring down at the influx of messages on his screen. Trust Garrett to make him feel better, no matter what.

**_Message from: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_> > Alex just hit me because apparently “that's not how you’re supposed to react when your best friend tells you he’s now single” so_ **

**_> > Are u ok_ **

**_> > Do you need ice cream?_ **

**_> > Or beer_ **

**_> > We have botsjhkcavhbjkjj_ **

Bram raises an eyebrow at his phone. He’s stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, probably annoying the hell out of the perpetually-rushing New Yorkers around him, but he can’t help it.

**_Message from: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_> > It’s Alex_ **

**_> > I stole the dumbass’s phone because he’s terrible with emotions _ **

**_> > But seriously if you want to come over we have greasy takeout and those documentaries you and I like that Garrett pretends to hate _ **

**_> > Don’t be a stranger _ **

It doesn't even take him a moment to consider the offer. Alex, also known as ‘the cute trans guy from the bookstore’, has been a part of Bram’s life ever since Garrett finally got up the courage to talk to him in Freshman year. They’re good for each other, in a way that gives Bram hope that love and soulmates maybe do actually exist. And while he pretends that their affection towards one another is gross, take-out and documentaries sounds like exactly what he needs to forget about Troy.

**_Message to: Garrett Laughlin_ **

**_< < I’ll be there in 45._ **

* * *

In his last year of college, Simon falls in love for the second time.

He's walking out of his Advanced Developmental Psychology lecture, head buried in his phone as he texts Alicia and Nate about their plans for the night, and ends up walking straight into a very hard, very muscular chest.

His phone falls to the ground, bouncing twice before landing facedown on the pavement with a sickening crunch, and Simon groans. There's no way a sound like that means anything good, and he honestly doesn't have the money to repair his screen right now.

Sure enough, when he bends to recover his phone, his heart sinks at the shattered screen. He presses the home button, but there's no response.

“I am _so_ sorry,” a voice says quickly, and a hand enters his view. It's a nice hand, pale with long fingers and a thin scar down the side of the palm. “I totally should have been watching where I was going!”

Simon accepts the hand up and stands, rubbing the dirt off his hands and onto his jeans.

“Don't worry about it, man. This one’s on me, I should have been paying-”

The words die in his throat as Simon looks the man in the eyes. His eyes are beautiful; they're a deep, forest green and seem to sparkle with hidden mirth, even though they're currently creased in worry. Simon can't help himself from running his eyes appreciatively over the other man’s beautifully sculpted body.

There's no way he isn't dreaming at the moment.

There's no way he's staring, definitely not, except he _totally is_ , because this guy is one of the most attractive men Simon has ever seen and his life isn't fair.

“-e pay for the damage!”

Mr. Tall, Bronze, and Handsome™ is speaking to him, apparently, and Simon has to catch his breath before responding.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, at least let me pay for breaking your phone. I really am sorry, by the way.” The guy laughs nervously. “I-”

“Don't worry about it,” Simon says, even though he's worrying about how he’ll be able to fix it _and_ keep up his share of the rent on the apartment he shares with Nate and two other guys on nothing more than a barista’s salary. “I'm Simon.”

He holds out his hand, unsure of what the protocol is for greeting someone you just ran straight into, and feels more than slightly relieved when the other man takes it.

“Evan.” Beautiful- no, _Evan_ , responds, and smiles at Simon. Simon feels his heart skip a beat.

“Nice to meet, uh-” Simon starts, and then cuts himself off with a laugh. “I mean, I guess not, huh? There are definitely nicer ways to meet people than by nearly killing them.”

Evan’s laugh catches in his throat, almost as if he's debating apologizing again, and Simon can't let that happen.

“I meant me,” he says lamely. “My almost killing you.” He runs his hand through his hair, embarrassment flooding him from head to toe. “I guess my mom knew what she was talking about when she used to tell me not to text and walk, right?”

God. Leah was right. Simon really is a Disaster Gay™, with a capital ‘D’. Why can't the ground just open up and swallow him now?

Evan opens his mouth, shuts it, and then opens it again with resolve in his eyes.

“Listen,” he says, “I still feel really bad about your phone… if you won't let me pay for its being repaired, at least let me buy you dinner?”

Simon stares at Evan for a moment, hardly willing to believe his ears. There is no way this beautiful specimen of a person is asking him _out_ , right?

“Like… a date?”

“If that's what you want it to be,” Evan says, bright red around the ears but bold in his words.

“Yeah.” Simon says, and he lets a smile break onto his face. “I'd love that, Evan.”

Take that, Leah. Disaster Gay indeed.

They end up at a pizza place on campus, and Evan insists on paying, which is nice. Simon learns that Evan’s a year older than him, lives off campus,and is at GSU persuing a graduate degree in Interior Design. He also has a job with a design firm - a minor job, but it pays better than Simon’s days at Starbucks.

( _Later, Evan will tell Simon that he’d known who Simon was before Simon had bumped into him. He’d wandered into the Starbucks where Simon worked once and, according to Evan at least, ‘hadn’t been able to get that cute barista out of his mind’._

_Simon will hide his blushy smile in Evan’s chest and try not to get too carried away with the thought of how fairytale perfect his boyfriend is.)_

Evan walks him back to his apartment and leaves him with a good night kiss, and Simon’s heart sings.

He hasn't felt this light and happy and _in love_ since high school.

* * *

Graduation comes too fast and too slow at the same time for Bram to process, and suddenly he's done with Columbia and he’s not sure what comes next. He hasn’t thought about this, not really, and now…

What comes now?

Bram graduates with a BA in English Literature and Composition and he thinks that maybe he’d like to teach. Not high school, if he can help it, but maybe a professor. With that in mind, Bram packs his bags and decides to return to Atlanta; it's been years since he's been home, and he’s accepted into Emory’s Laney Graduate School for Teaching Preparation with a focus on higher education. There's no reason for him to stay in New York, and he misses home.

He spends his first semester of Graduate school looking for a job, looking for somewhere that may let him teach English or at least allow him to afford the apartment he's currently renting, when Bram’s mother mentions a job opening at Shady Creek High School.

Almost five years have passed since Bram Greenfeld has set foot in Shady Creek High School, and yet the halls somehow manage to smell the same as they did when he was a student.

He feels a strange sense of deja vu as he walks towards the front office. There, in that corner right there, that had been his locker in tenth grade. That table to his left is the one he spent hours at with his friends, laughing and talking and celebrating birthdays. He'd kissed Simon senseless under those bleachers so many times he can still feel the beams poking into his back uncomfortably.

In a way, he feels as though he’s reconciling High-School-Bram with Now-Bram, greeting him once more as though meeting an old friend after years of distance. He's come so far since high school - he's no longer painfully shy, he can speak in front of crowds thanks to his public speaking class in sophomore year, and he's confident in himself now - but for a second it feels like he never left.

And yet - the paint on the walls is a different color, and the bulletin boards bear names he's never even heard of. The room that used to house his French class now has math posters on the walls. It's the same, and yet it's different.

It's… strange.

“Bram Greenfeld?”

Even after six years, Bram knows that voice. That voice had guided Bram through Shakespeare, through _Frome_ , through _Dorian Gray._ He’d spent years sitting on the couch in his English classroom, listening to this man lecture for 45 minutes every day and writing him an essay every two weeks.

“Mr. Wise. It’s nice to see you again.”

Mr. Wise doesn't look any different from the last time Bram had seen him; a little greyer around the temples and a little more wrinkled around the mouth, maybe, but he looks almost exactly the same. He shakes Bram’s hand, and his grip is firm.

“I hear you’re replacing Mrs. Carmichael as the new tenth grade teacher.”

Bram nods, although it hadn't been a question.

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Wise laughs. “We’re coworkers now, Bram. You don't have to call me ‘Sir’.”

“Y- yes sir. Sorry, Sir.” Bram can feel the heat rise to his cheeks, and he ducks his head. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to call Mr. Wise by anything other than “Mr. Wise” or “Sir”; it would just feel too strange.

Mr. Wise looks amusedly at him.

“No matter. Why don't I show you around?”

Bram nods and follows after his old teacher. This job was definitely looking to be anything but boring.

* * *

Simon Spier is 27 years old when he gets a job at his old high school. He's two years out of graduate school and almost five years committed to Evan, and he was recommended the job by a friend of Simon’s mom. Mr. Worth is the principal of the school now, and their interview is awkward because Mr. Worth ( _Call me Tony, Simon, we’re friends now!_ ) still remembers Simon as “that gay kid with the drama”, but he gets the job.

Simon feels good about this job. He wants to make a difference, after all, and where better to do it than his old high school?

Atlanta is slightly more progressive than it was when Simon was in high school, but Simon still feels a little uneasy when he starts to set up his office and finds that Evan’s snuck a tiny pride flag into his decorations. It's adorned with a cutesy note - _Good luck on your first day, I love you -E_ \- and it makes Simon’s breath catch in his throat. He stares at it, unsure of whether it belongs on his desk, and then his eyes narrow.

Wasn’t this the reason that he was doing this job? To create a safe space for _everyone_ , no matter how far they are from the default?

Simon looks around his office, at the couch he’d moved in this morning and the “COEXIST” poster on his wall, and knows that he will never be able to do his job the way it was meant to be done if he cannot be himself in his own workspace.

He leaves the flag in the pencil holder on the side of his desk, and can’t help the pride that rises in his chest.

Simon is twenty seven years old and employed by his old high school, and he is damn sure he is going to be amazing at this job.

* * *

The last person Bram Greenfeld expects to see in the teachers' room on the first day of Teacher-Preparation Week is Simon Spier.

Bram’s standing by the coffee machine, waiting for his pot to be ready, when Simon walks in. He hasn’t seen Simon in almost nine years, but he still knows the other by the way Simon walks and talks and it’s been nine years but he _freezes._

They’d ended badly, and there are still nights where Bram lies awake and thinks about how he could have handled their breakup better. He’d lost more than a boyfriend in Simon when they’d decided to end it, after all; he’d lost a best friend as well. But now Simon is here, in front of Bram, and Bram has no idea how to deal with this situation.

They stare at each other, deer caught in the headlights of a car about to crash, and the moment hangs between them like shards of glass.

“Bram?”

The silence hangs between them like a fraying rope and Bram is dying to break it, dying to say _anything_ that would make this surprise encounter less awkward, but he can’t seem to find the words.

“You… Work here?” Simon asks, and then flushes beet red. “I- I mean, of course you work here, you wouldn’t be standing in the staff room otherwise, right?” He laughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck, a gesture Bram had seen him make thousands of times during high school.

All of a sudden, everything rushes back, and Bram can speak again.

“Simon,” he says, and a genuine smile breaks out on his face. “It’s good to see you again.”

A look of relief flashes across Simon’s face, gone in an instant, but Bram notices it. He chooses not to say anything, though.

“Yeah, Bram.” Simon smiles at him, and Bram expects his heart to flutter but it doesn’t. He feels instead only warmth in his chest, the way he feels when he sees Garrett and Alex interact or the few times he’s seen Nick in the past years. There is no longing, no heartbreak, only the feeling of reuniting with a good friend after a long period away.

They smile at each other for a moment before Simon shakes himself, snapping Bram out of their shared trance.

“Hey, uh, I need to finish setting up my office, but… We should catch up!” Simon says enthusiastically, looking as though he means every word. “Can we do lunch at some point? I want to hear about everything that’s happened to you these past years.”

“Definitely,” Bram replies. “I’ll text you?”

“You do that,” Simon says. “My number’s the same.”

“Same. I'll text you.”

“Perfect!”

And with that, Simon turns and leaves. Bram stares after him, feeling a bit as though he was just run over by a train.

_Did that really just happen?_

* * *

They do lunch.

They do lunch, and then they go out for coffee, and then they find out that their apartments are only a few blocks away from one another so they decide to carpool and-

They’re friends.

It’s weird, because it’s almost like they’re back in senior year, Leah and Abby and Nick in the backseat and Elliot Smith playing on full volume, but they're older and more mature now and it shows. It shows in the little things, in Simon talking about how he’s hoping that his boyfriend of half a _decade_ will propose, in Bram standing up after too many hours spent at his desk grading and Simon teasing him for the horrific cracking noises that Bram’s back makes, in the laugh lines around both their eyes and mouths.

They’re friends, and it’s almost like high school again, just… not quite. It’s somehow better.

And then it breaks.

Simon starts coming to work with bags under his eyes, eyes distant and smile just a second too late. His office remains open to their students (and the students _love_ Simon, of course they do, because Simon encourages them be themselves and who doesn't love an adult who actually listens?), but his eyes are closed off now, sorrow locked away behind a fake smile, and Bram is worried about him.

If Simon would only _talk_ _to him…_

But things are not as they were in high school, and Bram is not Simon’s confidant anymore. Bram is no longer privy to Simon’s innermost thoughts, as much as he would like to be, and the fact that he cannot help Simon hurts Bram more than he could say aloud.

He rants about it in excess during one of his weekly phone calls with Garrett and Alex, however, and as he hangs up he hears Alex ask Garrett about ‘Bram’s new crush”.

He doesn't know how to explain to Alex that his crush on Simon is nothing new… and that, despite what he had previously thought, his decade-old crush on Simon Spier may not be as gone as he had previously thought.

It's not important, though, not now; he's too worried about Simon to even consider the problems his not-so-new revelation may cause him.

Simon will always come before anything else in Bram’s book. That's the way it's always been.

Bram can't find it in himself to feel bad about it.

* * *

It's silly, the way Simon and Evan end.

See, here's the thing: Simon has always known he’s gay, since he was young, but he also was that kid who dreamed of getting married and having kids. Simon wanted to be a husband, wanted to be a dad, wanted the white-picket-fence his parents had so badly it almost hurt.

Evan, though… Evan seems to want something different from their relationship.

They’ve been fighting more, agreeing less, going to bed angry or not going to bed at all. Evan’s slept on the couch more times than Simon can count, and it’s all because Simon wants more out of them than Evan does.

Well, no. It’s not that simple.

But it hurts when they end, hurts like the world is ending when Simon comes home to find Evan packing his bags, hurts to watch Evan study the carpet as Evan mutters _I don’t want to marry you, and I thought you would be okay with that but I guess not;_ hurts to see Evan walk out the door and know that he’s not going to come back.

They’d come so far, fought so hard, and now it’s broken and so is Simon.

Simon had forgotten how much it had hurt to feel one’s heart break. He hadn’t thought he and Evan would end, so he hadn’t remembered to restore the walls that Evan had broken through in order to access Simon’s heart.

The walls are shattered, and so is his heart.

Simon calls in sick to work, texts Bram to let him know he’s not going to be there to carpool, and sits in the dark.

It feels like the world is ending.

Simon does nothing for the day; he sits in the darkness and contemplates his ceiling. He doesn’t eat or drink or sleep. He doesn’t ever want to move again.

Eventually, though, there's a knock at the door, and Simon _jumps,_ hopes it's Evan, hopes he's been given a second chance -

But it's Bram Greenfeld, and never has Simon ever been so disappointed to see his friend than at this exact moment.

Bram holds up a carton of soup - probably homemade, because Bram Greenfeld is a stupidly good friend - and smiles, until he takes in Simon’s dark circles and the smile drops off his face.

“Oh, _Simon,_ ” Bram breathes, and Simon had forgotten how good a caretaker Bram is. He's a natural-born “mom friend”, born to kiss scraped knees and wipe away tears, and Simon has never been so glad that Bram walked back into his life than he is at this exact moment.

Bram wrestles him into the shower, then leaves to put the soup on the stove, and Simon lets his head hit the tile walls behind him. He closes his eyes, and for one second he sees an alternate universe in which he and Bram never broke up, where they made it through college and moved in together and had the love story Leah had planned for them.

Simon feels a pang in his heart, brief as a flash, and then he starts to feel guilty.

He’s just been broken up with by his boyfriend of five years. There’s no way he’s thinking of… Bram… like _that._ He’s not.

(Except he maybe sorta is.)

And it’s so wrong, so terrible of Simon that he hates himself immediately. It’s not fair to Bram, first off - Bram Greenfeld will always be worth more than a brief rebound thought to Simon, especially since they’re friends now, Simon and Bram. And - _god,_ Evan.

The mental image of Evan that Simon’s brain conjures up makes Simon’s heart pulse with longing until he feels sick. There's so much pain inside him, so much anguish, he doesn't know what to do with himself.

He wants to go back in time, wants to rewind his fights with Evan until they never happened, wants to take back all his yelling and the nasty words Simon had spat at Evan. He wants a do-over button, but even Simon knows that’s too much for him to ask. Life doesn’t work like that.

He takes a deep breath, composes himself, and steps out of the shower. He’s been in it long enough that his skin has turned pruney and red, but Simon barely notices. He’s too caught up in his head, in what could have been and what will never be. Regret and sorrow hang over him like a stormcloud; the soup Bram forces Simon to eat sits like a stone on his stomach.

Sitting on his couch, in an apartment that’s far too big for one person, Simon stares at his feet and wonders if he’ll ever feel okay again.

* * *

Simon’s heart repairs itself slowly, Bram notices. There are days where he still comes to school with a haunted look in his eyes, blotches staining his cheeks and whispering of late nights spent sleepless.

It heals slowly, and yet, it heals. Bram and Simon go out more, hang out after school, carpool to work. Bram can tell that Simon is trying his best to not think of Evan, and Bram does his best to help Simon in whatever way he can. He doesn’t think it’s enough, but he tries his best.

They settle into a routine, bringing each other coffee and hanging out in each other’s offices. It's good.

Bram hates himself the minute he starts craving more.  

See, the thing about Simon Spier - at least to Bram - is that he's just so damn lovable. He was lovable in high school as the drama nerd with passionate fire in his words and all the love in his heart he held for his friends. He was lovable in college from 870 miles away, even while they were fighting and crying and breaking up. He is especially lovable now, in his soft-looking sweaters and his ability to devote his full attention and passion to each student who requires him. Simon Spier makes love look so easy - whether it’s his family or friends or students or _Bram,_ once upon a time - and it makes Bram’s heart hurt.

He stands outside Simon’s office as Simon finishes up talking with a particular favorite student of his, watches Simon gesture at the student - who had recently come out to their family as non-binary, Bram knew, and was experiencing some difficulty with their rather conservative father - and feels warmth rise in his chest. Simon never ceases to astound Bram with the depths of his kindness.

Finally, Simon covers the student’s hand, says a final remark, and nods as the student rises to leave, and Bram tries to wipe the sappy expression off his face before Simon can see it.

Simon looks up, catches Bram’s eye, and Bram tells himself that the affection he sees in Simon’s beautiful grey eyes is just his imagination. He almost believes it, too.

( _There’s no point in hoping for a man who is long over his love for you, Bram Greenfeld. Do not even try._ )

Bram’s voice catches in his throat, and for a moment he is a high-school freshman again, unable to say a single word in front of the cutest boy in the school, but then he remembers that he is no longer that freshman, he is older and more experienced now, and he can once again breathe.

His voice shakes when he asks Simon if he’s ready to leave for lunch, same as he asks Simon every day.

Simon is nice enough to not comment on it.

* * *

Simon’s kissing Bram comes as a surprise to the both of them.

Simon had known he was falling for Bram for a while beforehand, of course, but he hadn’t wanted to actually act on it. He was just getting over Evan, for one thing, and he wasn’t willing to compromise the friendship he and Bram had built for anything. His decision to kiss Bram had been as surprising to Simon as it had been to Bram.

It happens on the one-year anniversary of Evan leaving him. Simon hadn’t wanted to be alone, so he’d invited Bram over for a movie night, and Bram had looked so adorable snuggled up under the quilt Simon’s mom had made him that Simon hadn’t been able to stand it. He’d leaned forward, not even realizing what he was doing, and kissed Bram soundly, cutting the other man off in the middle of his sentence.

It only takes a second for Bram to start kissing him back, and it’s as if Simon’s whole world has righted itself. He had forgotten the feeling of Bram’s lips on his, had forgotten the butterflies that flew around his stomach when Bram touched his face. He’d forgotten how right it felt to kiss Bram Greenfeld.

The kiss only lasts a minute, but it may as well have lasted years. It's over too soon, and suddenly Bram’s beautiful brown eyes are filling with doubt.

“Simon, wait,” he says, pushing back from Simon, and Simon feels cold. He’s messed everything up now, he’s ruined the best relationship he’s had since Evan left him, he’s-

“Simon.” Bram’s hand settles on Simon’s cheek and Simon leans into it, hating himself for every second but unable to resist.

“Simon, I need you to be truthful with me,” Bram says, and Simon feels like crying. He's messed up for the last time, really fucked up, and there was no coming back from it. Not this time.

He’s freaking out now, internally hyperventilating, but Bram’s hand is still on his cheek and he hasn’t left in disgust yet so Simon forces himself to look up at Bram and meet his eyes.

“Simon,” Bram says for a third time before clearing his throat and starting over. “Simon, I need you to tell me that that wasn’t just you needing a distraction from-”

He breaks off, looks down at his lap, picks at a loose thread in the quilt covering his legs, and suddenly Simon understands. Bram is afraid of being a replacement for the man Simon has been over for the last four months - not a long time, admittedly, but enough to know - and Simon has no idea how to reassure Bram that he will never be second to anyone in Simon’s book.

Instead, he leans forward, looks Bram straight in the eyes, and presses a light kiss to Bram's lips before pulling back and repeating the words he can remember saying to Bram almost twenty years prior to this moment. Time hangs between them, crystallized and delicate, but Simon is no longer afraid of breaking it.

“It’s you,” he murmurs, and the words taste like the promise of dawn. They sing with the beat of Simon’s heart, and Simon knows with every atom in his body that the words he speaks are truth.

“It’s you.”

_It’s always been you._

Their lips connect, so familiar and yet so new at the same time, and Simon feels like he’s finally able to fly again.

Bram tastes just as he always has. He tastes like home.

* * *

_Over and over, the only truth / Everything comes back to you._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really one for long authors notes, but credit must be given where credit is due, and for this fic, credit is most definitely due:  
>   
> \- First and foremost to [Paige](http://paigeontheoffbeat.tumblr.com/), who wrote the original fic from which the idea for this fic was based. You can find that [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10967364): I promise it's much better and a lot more concise than this seven thousand word monstrosity.  
> \- To [Chris](https://sten-bros.tumblr.com/), for allowing me use of Alex, Garrett's boyfriend; though he is not all that significant in this work, he is significant to us. Seriously, he's got a lot more character and backstory than is portrayed here. That is our son you're looking at.  
> \- To Niall Horan's song This Town, because I'm pretty sure I wrote this entire fic while listening to only that song. The title and the end quote are both from that song as well.  
> \- To Becky Albertalli, for allowing me to live in this world that she has so lovingly created;  
> \- And, as always, to [doodledevil](https://www.instagram.com/doodledevil/). I couldn't have done it without you, and I'm sorry for making you procrastinate your portfolio so often by making you reread my shit. I love you.  
>   
> I'm on tumblr if anyone wants to come kick my butt or question my choices: [fandoms-are-my-lifestyle](http://fandoms-are-my-lifestyle.tumblr.com/)


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